Seven Deadly Sins
by kennagirl
Summary: Kurt Hummel is fed up with following the rules. All the rules ever got him was married to a serial cheater. Now that he's finally free, Kurt wants to break all the rules, sin all the sins. Who better to lead him on his descent into hedonism than Noah Puckerman?


**_A/N: Written for the Fic I Didn't Write Challenge at the Puckurt LJ. Title by the amazing raving_liberal and summary by the fabulous pterawaters._**

* * *

Puck let himself into his apartment and was unsurprised to hear Kurt yelling. When Kurt first separated from Blaine, Puck had offered his couch while the other man got back on his feet. Nine months later, and Kurt was officially free of the bastard, as well as officially on Puck's lease. It was a good set up for both of them, seeing as Puck had been almost forced to give up his excellent apartment since making rent without a roommate was hard.

Unfortunately, Blaine was still calling once a week to try to get Kurt back. Not even the final papers being signed had stopped that. Kurt had been fighting these desperate attempts with a combination of ignoring the calls and answering just to say no and hang up again. It might have been petty, but the reasons Blaine had given for cheating had been petty as well.

It was only a matter of time before he snapped.

"No, _you_ fucking listen to me, Blaine Anderson! There is no chance! There is no couples counseling, no talking it out, no taking time to think, and no starting over. We signed the damn papers. It's done. We're done." Kurt paused, probably because Blaine was trying to talk over him. "I don't give a damn what your family wants! I kept half the shit you did to me quiet from them so that they wouldn't think less of you. I did that for _them_, because as shitty of a husband as you were, they were great in-laws. They don't deserve to hate you for what you did to me, and if I told them, they might." Another pause, which Puck guaranteed was Blaine protesting. "So you mean to tell me that if I told Cooper about everything I know about what happened with Chad, he wouldn't take my side? After everything he went through with Maria?" Another pause, and Puck could swear he wasn't breathing. He bet Anderdouche wasn't either. "That's what I thought. Now all I want Blaine, is for you to leave me the hell alone. Do not call, do not e-mail, do not visit, do not send flowers to me at work, and for fuck's sake, DO NOT FOLLOW ME ON THE SUBWAY EVER AGAIN!"

Kurt stopped talking. Puck could hear him take a deep breath and let out a scream to rival Rachel when she found that rat in her pantry. He waited a few more moments, then tossed his keys into the ceramic bowl by the door with enough force to make them jangle. Giving a few more seconds for Kurt to recover a little, he strolled into the kitchen where the yelling had been echoing around the walls.

"Sup?"

"Hi Puck," Kurt said, wiping at his eyes. He had been an emotional crier for as long as Puck had known him, whatever the emotion may be. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to be impressed," he said. "I've always heard people talk about the wrath of an angry God, but that's got nothing on the wrath of Kurt Hummel."

"I don't know that I'd call it wrath," Kurt said, busying himself with the dishes in the sink. "I was upset and angry and maybe a little bitchy, but—"

"Trust me, I'm a Jew. There's two things we know, and that's the wrath of the Big Man and the guilt of our mothers." Kurt snorted. "Dude, you were angry and vicious and hitting hard below the belt, which is just what the dick deserves. It was awesome."

He glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Hell yeah. I've missed that Kurt Hummel. I don't think I've seen him since the days of me dropping you in the dumpster." Puck paused, then amended his statement. "Maybe during some of the shit with Karofsky junior year."

"I just… I didn't want to stick out," Kurt admitted. "I thought toning it down might be a good thing."

"Who told you that?"

Kurt's face twisted into something ugly and bitter. "Blaine."

"And look where that got you."

The silence was thick in the kitchen. It wrapped around them as Kurt continued rinsing dishes and Puck stood still, leaning against the other counter. Just when he was thinking about walking back to his small bedroom, he heard Kurt speak quietly.

"You're right."

"I'm sorry, could you say that one more time?" Puck teased. "I couldn't quite hear that."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I said you're right. I used to speak up, but then I didn't anymore. Part of me misses that. But part of me doesn't know how to do that again."

Puck shrugged. "Start big. Life is short, break some rules, and all that."

Kurt paused, hands still on the plate he had been scrubbing. "That's a good idea. Wanna help? You are the best rule-breaker I know, after all."

"I'd be insulted if you didn't ask," Puck said. "So, what do you want to do? Any ideas?"

"I don't want to do just one thing. Society has all these lists of rules that you're not supposed to break, so I want to knock out every single one. But I want it to be fun."

"Only thing I've got is the Commandments," Puck said. "I don't think you'd find those fun."

"Probably not," Kurt said.

"Levels of hell? Make your way through Dante's Inferno. You've already got the first one."

"But isn't one of them betrayal?" Kurt asked. "After Blaine, I don't think I can pull that off." He looked down, obviously thinking, then back and Puck, grinning. "But Dante also talked about seven sins."

Puck grinned back. "Hey, you even knocked out the wrath already."

* * *

After a late night talking about different ways to sin all the sins, Kurt just decided to let Puck run the show. If anyone would know about sinning in the best possible way, it was Noah Puckerman.

A few days later, Puck told him to clear his Saturday schedule because they were going out. He wouldn't say where, just that Kurt should be ready to go by ten in the morning and to wear sweat pants. Kurt almost vetoed whatever it was then and there, but decided against it. If he was breaking all the rules, why not break the fashion ones as well?

Saturday morning had them walking up to a small bistro in Brooklyn tucked between a dry cleaners and a funeral home. Puck had to knock on the door to get them to unlock it, but when they went in, everything seemed to be ready for a day's opening.

"So what are we doing?"

Puck turned to the dessert showcase. Inside were a wide variety of brownies, cookies, and slices of cake. Taking up the entire top row were cheesecakes. Plain, strawberry, Snickers, turtle, Oreo, chocolate, raspberry, caramel, peanut butter. One on the end claimed to be mocha flavored, which had Kurt's mouth watering.

"We are eating our way through the desserts."

Kurt only took a moment to regret the stomachache he was going to have later, before he sat down at a table in the corner. "Let the feast begin."

It took hours. Apparently Puck had talked to the owner beforehand so that they wouldn't get kicked out before they had sampled everything. There was lots of conversation between desserts as well. They had been living together for nine months now, but really talking didn't happen often. Now they were in each other's company for quite some time, with nothing to do but eat and talk.

It was nice. Kurt had never really gotten to know the man Puck had become after graduation, but he wasn't surprised to find that he liked him a lot. It was easy, some connection between them that was as simple as breathing. If he didn't fear being kicked out as soon as they had finished the dessert case, he'd be perfectly fine with sitting there until close.

The last dish was a light lemon cheesecake, less sour and more palate cleansing. With it came the bill, one that had them both wincing. Kurt had gotten a decent amount for emotional damages during the divorce, but this would make a significant dent in his account.

"Let me check something," he muttered, pulling out his phone. He could see Puck watching the screen as he flicked through the mobile banking app, grinning at what he found. "This one's on Blaine."

Puck cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"We may be divorced, but he never took me off the joint account," Kurt explained. "I transferred what I thought was all my earnings into my own separate account, but I don't think he'll notice a chunk gone missing. I was the one that kept the checkbook balanced anyway."

"Is that legal?" Puck asked.

"He won't contest it," Kurt said, brushing it off. "Seriously, if he even notices, he'd be too scared I'll bring up something else ugly from the divorce."

"Like the Chad thing?"

"Like the Chad thing."

"What is the Chad thing anyway?"

"If I tell you, I'd have to kill you," Kurt sing-songed. "Really though, it just loses it's potency the more people I tell. It's my ace in the hole for now."

"Vindictive," Puck said, nodding. "I like it."

The joint account card ran through and Kurt signed his name with a flourish. "Does this count for greed as well? Taking money that isn't technically mine."

"Technically, you're just going after more money that you wanted," Puck countered. "Sounds like greed to me."

* * *

For the next week they puttered around each other in the apartment, enjoying their newly bolstered camaraderie. They would joke back and forth, bringing up something mentioned over red velvet cake, easy as can be. If Kurt didn't know any better, he'd say it was approaching something like flirting.

Friday came and Puck told him in the morning before he left for work that they'd be going out that night. Apparently there was a club in Jersey that they were going to hit up to knock another sin off the list. Kurt went along with it, assuming that he was supposed to hook up with someone and take care of lust. When they arrived within seeing distance of the club, however, he had to laugh.

"The goal tonight," Puck said as he held open the door to Envy, "is to make everyone jealous of you."

It was a fun night to say the least. It wasn't a gay club, and dancing was dancing, so Kurt danced with more than his share of people, male and female alike. Several bought him drinks and he downed some of them, turning down others by claiming that he didn't want to lose his memory of the night.

Puck was usually somewhere around him, within sight if not arm's reach. It was comforting, to press close to some anonymous man with green eyes and sandy hair and see Puck over his shoulder, his hands clutching the waist of a tall brunette with legs a mile long and the minidress to show them off. Every so often they actually spoke to each other, making sure everything was good and deciding if they were staying or going. They kept staying, enjoying the rhythm of the music.

At least, Kurt was enjoying himself until he saw Puck's latest partner.

The man had his back pressed to Puck's front, sliding a hand around the back of his neck. Puck was obliging, talking in the guy's ear in what was sure to be an NC-17 fashion. Kurt faltered in his movement, causing the very nice and fairly understanding girl he was dancing with to look up in concern. He smiled reassuringly and continued dancing, even though his eyes never left Puck.

Maybe the goal had been to make everyone jealous, but Kurt was a little green with envy himself.

* * *

They woke up Saturday morning with noticeable, but not unmanageable, hangovers. Puck promptly declared it the day of sloth and flopped on the couch in his pajamas, claiming it had been his plan all along. Kurt rolled his eyes but went along with it, grabbing some snacks and popping in the first movie of what would inevitably become a marathon.

Halfway through _13 Going on 30_, Puck's choice, Kurt realized how close they were sitting on the couch. It was all he could think about as the movie went on and Jenna tried to rebuild her life. Subtly, he moved himself closer, acting like he was just listing sideways, getting into Puck's space until they were touching from shoulder to knee. Kurt wanted to give in, throw caution to the wind and break one rule for himself.

When Jenna jumped out of the closet and onto her best friend, Kurt leaned over and kissed Puck.

It was nothing more than a quick peck. Kurt pulled away, allowing Puck to process as the movie wrapped up. When the happy couple was eating candy in front of their dream house, he turned to Kurt.

"What was that for?"

Kurt shrugged. "I wanted to."

"Why?" His face was blank and his voice was flat, but Kurt could see the confusion and apprehension in his eyes.

"Isn't one of society's rules not to have a little bit of a thing for your roommate?"

Apprehension fled and Puck smiled. "Not if he's got a little bit of a thing for you back."

"That didn't make sense," Kurt said, but he was grinning and moving closer.

"Shut up," Puck said as he closed the gap.

As the credits played through and the DVD returned to menu, Kurt mentally checked lust off the list.

* * *

Six months went by before they saw anyone they knew from their past. Rachel had been out of town with a touring production, but she had come back for the special event. Santana had been in town, but just didn't care that much about seeing them. They kept it quiet, keeping it to themselves and the people they actually saw regularly. Coworkers, neighbors, baristas at their usual coffee shops. All those people knew that Puck and Kurt were dating.

Mike and Tina only found out before everyone else because it was their wedding.

Mike had told Kurt that he had invited Blaine because they had been good friends in high school and he hoped it wasn't going to be too awkward. Kurt had reassured him, saying that with his boyfriend by his side, he could handle anything. Of course, Mike had left the phone on speaker and Tina heard. She went directly into grill mode, obviously expecting a fight to draw out the information and sounded a little disappointed when Kurt agreed to tell her right away. Once they got over the slight shock of it being Puck, they agreed to keep it hush-hush, enjoying the drama of a surprise couple hanging out at the reception.

They walked into the reception arm in arm, laughing over something they'd heard on the radio. They were stuck in their own world, as they often were now, and barely noticed the looks they were getting from their old friends. When they heard Santana mutter, "Wanky," Puck looked awkward. He almost pulled away, returning to the aloof nature he'd put on around these people. Kurt held tight to his arm, however, and grinned at his boyfriend.

If he grinned wider when he heard Blaine choking on his champagne, well, he was just proud that he had this amazing man on his arm.


End file.
